On The Floor
by dmnchld1029
Summary: Running out after the play, Jade and Tori avoid the outside world together. Jori if you squint?


"How did we wind up here again?"

I groan my frustration. "Vega, you know how got here. I don't see why you feel the need to open your mouth and suck up my oxygen when you have nothing to contribute."

"Well!" _And she says she 'doesn't sound like that'… _I take a deep breath. _One… Two… Thre- _"I'm not apologizing for wasting your precious oxygen."

"If I had a way to stop sharing with you - I would, but I have too much to do to _stay_ in prison." I trip up, nearly forgetting that worst-country-in-the-world. "Your questions and your voice are the bane of my existence."

She looks hurt for a moment, but it quickly dons a smirk that looks mischievously out of place in my house. "You like my singing, though. A-and you think I'm pretty." The chirpy brunette sighs, "Seriously, how did we get here again?"

My eyes roll, snapping the response: "I said it wasn't awful, and _some people _might think that. _Some people _also soak their feet in chicken fat, if you're so inclined to remember. And we _got here _in my car after you barged your way in."

"You were gonna run me over!" Vega's voice righteously peaking in pitch.

"Then ya shouldn't've been standing in front of a moving car, now should you?"

"It wasn't moving when I started standing there," she growls back in clipped notes, "I could've died, or really really hurt!"

"A shame really."

An _absolutely _withering look later, she gives up, "That's not what I meant anyway. I mean how are we in this situation."

"I know what you meant." Vega's hands flail over her head, exasperated if the way my name hangs in the air is any indication. Her eyes probe me to continue. "I told you. You know how we got here. Some _people _think you're pretty, and _other_ people think you can't act without method acting. Thank you for _that_, very much."

"So I'm a Methodist, sue me!" I bring my hand to my eyes. _I don't know what to think here. _My bewilderment has shattered my poker face, unfortunately. "What?"

"I don't even know what you think that means. 'Methodism' is a Christianity branch. Or even a kind of philosophy. You're a method _actor_." Sometimes this girl really does astound me. "Where do you hear these things?"

"Gank."

I almost feel bad to see the fight in her die so quickly, but my foul mood is in no hurry to reconcile. _It's really my fault that she's here. I should've just taken her home instead. _Damn my auto-piloting skills, taking me straight to my house. I sigh internally. _I _am_ a gank._ Not that long ago my fight-or-flight instincts would've directed me to Beck's RV.

Turning my head to the half-Latina twisting her stupid mustache, I watch her for an unguarded moment. In a special Tori Vega move, her head spastically jerks up to meet my gaze. "What?"

Smirking away the oncoming blush, I try to patch things up. Vega's not _so _so bad. "I was just gonna ask if you were hungry, or if that prettiness comes at a price." I shrug nonchalance, hoping there's no truth in my words.

She flashes me _my _sarcastic smile. I lift my studded brow. "Yeah, I didn't eat much at lunch. What's for food? We gonna go out?"

My choice seems - suddenly - all the more like a lapse in judgement. "Sure Tori. Let's call your sister's fake pizza business and have her deliver frozen pizzas and hope she'll just get out after. Or better yet, we can leave this nice, safe building that we've deadbolted in highly reasonable paranoia and hit Inside-Out Burger. Great idea."

"Sorry, it was just the first thing that came to mind. It's not like I expect you to make me anything." My eyes widen in protest, but she cuts my quips short. "That I can trust to eat without severe repercussions." _Touché. _"Speaking of which, there's no way your house - where you live - can be safe for me."

I chuckle, "Feel free to walk out anytime, Vega." Her eyes widen as I turn away toward the kitchen to hide my amusement. "We _could_ cut out the middlemanand make our own frozen pizza, but anything else would require preparation that both of us are untrusting of."

She looks at me and I narrow my eyes in a grin. Warily she agrees, taking careful steps in my direction.

I grow annoyed at her leering at me and walking so freakin' slow, "Move it along, Vega. I don't bite… unless you want me to."

The corners of her eyes crinkle in false laughter, "Right, West, like I want your mouth anywhere near me."

"_Oh._" It comes out more offended than I'd like. "But it's okay as long as it's taking down some other moron?" I show her my freezer, motioning for a decision.

"Uh, pepperoni." I stare at her in regards to my more-verbalized question, "And well yeah! That's awesome when I'm not on the receiving end.

"It's funny when you're jankin' on people who totally deserve it. You singing that count was the hottest thing I've ever heard!"

Oh chiz and rice. I stick my face just that much farther into the freezer to avoid eye contact, imaging no less awkwardness than when she said in that sincere, insisting way that I _am_ pretty and our ensuing almost-blushes.

Fiddling with the frozen contents to buy more time, I pull out the box and tell Tori to keep it in her pants. Yeah, she's not looking at me either.

"All right," though clearly not, "'Heat oven to 450' and 'Bake for 13 to 15 minutes', you'll keep track of time."

Instead of just setting the stupid oven to 450, _this girl _decides to crowd behind me and read over my shoulder. Her breath hits my neck, "But look, right here are microwave instructions." I glare at her until she gives in to using the proper cookery because soggy pizza is disgusting.

To relieve some tension, I toss my PearPod to my (vaguely unwanted) guest and point her to the audio jack. _If it's my music, I won't hate it._ _Baby steps_, I figure as hard and fast rock blares.

A blue phone rings; I turn down the volume and chuck the Pear product with the momentum of falling into the couch. She lets out a squeal when it flies to her face, knocks her mustache askew to catch it. I smirk cheekily while her frantic appearance fades into the evil eye. Tapping the screen with a new smile, she plops into the chair.

"Hey Andr- _you what?_" The shrillness of her voice caught me off guard. Eyes widening, I jump up tensed - my adrenaline pumping, at the ready to bail. "Thanks, but you suck. Alright, see you Monday."

My 'frenemy' shifts to the end of the seat, ass threatening to edge off, and cradles her head in her hands. I take in her posture: slumped over, feet splayed at odd angles with her knees jammed tightly together, elbows resting on said knees. _Defeat._ As if she heard my thought, her head pops up to expose her utter vexation.

Saccharine forces itself onto her face and her left eye twitches slightly. Comically. I could vomit at the sugar coming out of her mouth. "So how 'bout makin' this a slumber party?" I school my reaction to none. I wave for her to continue, which from the way she's actually looking relieved, she thinks is a good sign (somehow). It's almost worth it to hear her sigh - _almost_. "I can't go back to my place. The gang went to check up on us at my house. Guess who followed."

I say nothing, opting to dig my phone out and shoot Cat a text to have everyone stay the wazz away from my house and anywhere I might ever go. Heh, I imagine Vega's pretty wazzed herself. "Maybe that sister of yours will scare them away. I'll tell Cat to get some avocados."

Hands cupped in front of her mouth, brows furrows as a laugh is choked from her chest. Straightening up in the chair, she slides her hands palm-down along her jeans to grip her knees. "Since you haven't punched me yet or thrown me out, is that an green light on the sleepover?"

I posture haughtily, hands resting on my hips. Exhaling slowly in an air of indifference, "Beg me."

Now, this is where I imagine her getting an angry look, complete with indignant jaw-slacking, and a vehement refusal. Maybe even a walk-out (until she remembered and scurried back). Color me surprised at what actually transpires.

Smoothly gliding down from the cushion, Vega kneels before me on the cream carpet, throwing her arms around my ankles. My heart pumps erratically, and as artificial facial hair tickles my calf - I'm pretty sure it's not adrenaline anymore. "Please almighty and righteous Mistress Jade, will you allow me - a lowly pheasant - to stay the night?" It was heady; she said it in the way I might've if I were mocking her.

"Whatever." Dropping from my legs, she lays in the plush, "You had me at _pheasant_,"I mentally omit the 'Mistress' comment, "I just imagined you all tarred and feathered. It was_ hilarious._" She must have really mixed up the words 'cause she's biting her lip and flushing like a mad woman, stammering nonsense. When she stays in the same position, I idly comment, "You must _really _like it on the floor there, Vega."

"It's nice down here, why don't you join me?"

"Awful sweet of you to offer, but I'd rather be eating." Twisting around her, I head to the cupboard for plates.

Shuffling after me, her voice sounds out a protest, "What are you talking about? There's still," a pause indicating the check for time that should've happened before her trap opened, "no minutes left. Oops. Well, I'm starved!"

I roll my eyes good-naturedly, "Wahoo Punch okay with you?" I jerk my thumb at the fridge at her nod, myself moving to take out the pizza before it was overdone. As the little door snap shut, I reach to turn it off.

Grabbing a knife, I sneak a glance at Vega. I do a double-take because she's staring at me with a terrible amount of fear in her puppy expression. "What? I don't have one of those fancy pizza cutter things. It's not for you." When she relaxes slightly, I'm not sure whether to be insulted or amused. "Seriously Vega, _what?_" enunciating my frustration with a line across the pizza.

Blinking suddenly, "O-oh I was just thinking about the last time I saw you near an oven."

I groan at the memory, "I'm not stupid, Tori. I can handle myself without getting burned constantly." Another sharp cut.

"Then _excuse me _for being concerned." I slide a slice to each plate and leave the other half on the stovetop. As I pass the plate, I use my emptied hand to pull out a chair at the dining table. I don't see why she accepted it since now she's juggling it with the beverages.

I hide my smirk with a mouthful, but I'm aware it's not enough since it comes out in my next words anyway. "You're excused, now give me my Wahoo before you drop it."

Surprising enough, our meal went without incident. Wordlessly I snatch her dish and wash it quickly before leaving it on the drying rack.

Just in time, too: I hear the wall-shuddering vibration of the garage door opening. I usher Vega upstairs, hissing at her to get in my room. The tell-tale noise of my father's engine sputters closer and dies. Throwing out our empty cans, I do a quick sweep of the area to get any stuff either of us might've left. Shouldering our backpacks, I whisk up a 12-pack of punch and dash up the stairs. We were cutting it close.

I bite my tongue at the near collision, but she outright screams. I shove the drinks toward the thrashing body, freeing my hands to simultaneously open my door and yank aforementioned body in. I slam my door shut, locking it in place in time to hear someone coming in downstairs.

Sighing in relief, I round on my classmate, "I told you to get in my room, what up with you just standing at the top of the stairs like a nub?"

"It's not like I knew which one it was!" She hisses back with equal venom. "Maybe you've forgotten that I've never been here before. What's got you all worked up?"

I push her shoulder and Vega pivots like a swinging door (_that is, comes right back at me after I'm through_) I open my arms and fall face-first into bed. "We weren't alone anymore," I mumble into the comforter. I know she heard me. Flipping around to stare at the ceiling, I tell her I wasn't sure whether it was my dad or my stepmom, but I wasn't in an adventurous mode to find out.

Sitting at the edge of my twin frame, I let her gain purchase in the spot before unceremoniously kicking her off. I remove my boots as an afterthought. I snigger as the rumpled teenager on my floor huffs her hair out of her face. "Dog jam it, Jade! I'm getting rug burn at this rate. Anyway. What difference does it make that someone's here?"

I chuckle, mirthless. "My dad hates my guts, but he'll ignore me if he's sober. My stepmom tries too hard to 'bond' with me, but we both know that it's not gonna happen and neither of us actually wants it. And she's got that stupid yappy pooch that she carries." I shudder - I _hate _useless dogs. Rott-whatevers can guard, …and attack. _Moving on._ "Either way, I don't want to deal with it."

Vega swivels my desk chair around and sits on it backwards, "urban" style. "'_If _he's sober'? What's he like unsober?"

I grimace at her liberal use of the English language. I debate whether or not I want to get into this with her. It's not like I can tell her to get out without it being obvious that I'm here, and it's not like I can talk to her and then run off to some private sanctuary. I'm worrying my lower lip with my teeth. I suck in a breath as I realize she's been watching me this whole time. Self-conscious, I sit up.

"I told you he doesn't support my dreams right?" A tentative nod, "Well let's just say he's quite vocal about it when he can wake up in the morning, pretending it didn't happen. Let's also say it can get worse with people around. It's best for everyone if nobody knows I'm here."

"Oh Jade, I'm sorry. I didn't th-"

"Stuff it Vega, I don't need your pity." Even as I say this, I feel my emotions getting the better of me.

I hate it. People think I'm _so _heartless, that I don't feel. What crap. Anyone with a brain can see I'm brimming with passion - what d'you think _hate_ is? It's just safer to hold back on showing them to everyone and their mom. Who in their right mind would _want_ to share something with someone if they absolutely _know _it's going to get shot down and stomped over?

In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, I occasionally find myself wishing I could maybe _feel _less. It wouldn't feel like acting all the time.

When I wish that… then I wish I was _acting_ when I was acting, and not stripping myself bare in front of the world because I was given that brief opportunity to do it without them judging me for my weaknesses. _Not_ letting truth shine through instead of being covered in pretenses. It's a beautiful irony really, that the flaws I spend the rest of my time hiding come out to become my best 'acting'. At those times, I'd be wishing that when I wasn't acting, I could not be pretending too.

Lost in my thoughts, I flinch violently when I feel her grab me, trying to manhandle my face into her shoulder. When I understand this to be a hug rather than a lunge, I stop fighting.

Her hand rubs my back soothingly. "Shh, it's okay. I'm right here, giving you sass instead of pity. You don't have to cry to get a hug from Tori."

_What? I'm not- oh - never mind. _I push her away and angrily swipe at tears with my wrist, the rub my eyes with the back of my knuckles. Two calming breaths later, I pop the tab to take a long drink. "I don't want to talk about it."

"About what?" And maybe, just maybe, Vega's right - I don't have any reason to not like her. And yeah, she's right that there are probably plenty of reasons _to _like her. I just shake my head, a lazy smile cocked at her.

I want to ask her if she likes me, but instead I mention the time. It's not super late, but I figure if we're going to pretend to have a slumber party, we can get ready for bed. And by bed, I mean staying up watching movies.

I get out my sleepwear and leave her to have at my wardrobe. I'm not the kind of girl who has to hide things in sock drawers: this is _my _room - someone could get hurt snooping here. Showering the stubborn remnants of makeup and lost blonde strands, I let the hot water soothe the rest of my thoughts away.

I shut off the water when it gets hard to breathe. Stepping out, reality returns and I don a towel to let Tori use the bathroom if she so feels like it.

Opening the door, she runs by me, "Gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee!" That sounds oddly familiar, but I drop it.

I get dressed quickly now that my mind won't let me forget I have company. She comes out as I'm pulling sweatpants on, flipping the switch for the fan as she does. _Right I always forget to turn that thing on. _"How do you breathe in there with it all stuffy?" I just shake my head again and shrug. "Have you seen my mustache? I must've dropped it."

I ignore that. "If you wanna hop in the shower before changing into my clothes, go right ahead. And there's new toothbrushes left of the sink."

By the time she's out, I've been lounging in bed again. Staring at the ceiling for who knows how long; it's almost 10. Vega moseys to her bag and fishes her glasses out. _Oops, I wouldn't have dropped it so roughly if I knew those were there. _Wait, did I care? I guess I really don't not like her.

"I guess I'm sleeping on the floor."

I lift my head to 'survey my thorough occupancy in the small bed' in mocking. "Whatever gives you that idea?" I intone sweetly, scrunching my nose a bit for added effect.

Lowering herself slowly, I speed up the process by knocking her over with a swift pillow from overhead. "Oops?"

"Yeah, uh huh." Putting her glasses on the table, she comes back at me with a vengeance. Thus starts our impromptu pillow war. Feathers everywhere, and suddenly we were dressed in skimpy, uncomfortable lingerie. Jumping up and down on my magically king-sized mattress. Then a unicorn came in with ice cream and pooped a rainbow so there was _way_ too much color. Y'know. What dreams are made of.

We really did have that pillow war on my tiny bed though.

Winded, I use my superior mass to weigh her down, loosely holding my weapon over her head until she taps. It doesn't take long 'cause she freaks out immediately. She whimpers a broken "Not cool," and heads to pick out a movie. No one ever accused Jade West of being soft. "Why do you have to be so rough?"

"It's a blessing and a curse. Usually it keeps away anyone who can't handle it." I look pointedly at her, smirking when she pouts. "But I think shoving the skunkbag around at Nozu just turned him on." _I really should've just broken his collarbone when I had the chance._

"He deserved the abuse. I'm shocked you didn't do more than elbow him." A beat. "Still, scuzzy is as scuzzy does. A hot, assertive woman is hot all the same."

"I swear he was trying to burn a hole through me, with how much he stared." I turn myself perpendicular to the usual axis. I hang half off the side, scraping my fingernails against the carpet. "Did you just call me hot?"

She pokes her tongue out at me, "You could say I'm hot." I wink playfully.

Sitting down again, Vega leans on my bed. I pass her the laptop to put in whatever she chose. _Ah, a Julie Andrews classic_. Tori makes an obligatory remark of not thinking I'd have anything that wasn't 'blood blood gore death blood' so I flip her the bird and give her my patented 'I'm at Hollywood Arts… where I produce, and sing and dance and act… why wouldn't I like musicals?'

She shoves me lightly. And I just take it. _I guess that's it. We're friends. _Not that I'd ever admit it out loud, but I guess I can't honestly deny it either. _Could this have been easier?_

I spaced out for too long. The credits roll and I'm sipping on air. I get up to take another can. Nudging Vega with my foot, "You're hogging all the real estate."

"What are you doing?" She looks surprised.

"What does it look like I'm doing? There's clearly not enough room on the bed for the two of us, and let's face it - this is a much bigger area."

"I'll be fine by myself: I'm a big girl."

Caught somewhere between annoyed and confused, she scrambles to make room. I huddle next to her and take my computer back.

"Tori, it's not always about you. I told you, I like it on the floor." I bite at her teasingly.

She dazzles her 'Make-It-Shine' grin. I log into Webflix to watch Celebrities Under Water.

I snake my hand from my lap to lace my fingers through hers. _Maybe it's better this way._

A few episodes later, Tori decides it's too morbid and heads to the iCarly website. I pout but break into a smile when she squeezes my hand.

~~OTF~~~

AN:

I used so many words to tell you absolutely nothing at all. Not entirely happy, but now I'm just adding nothing. Finished unless someone wants to point me a direction to go with this.


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